Rival Remedy
by Scootiebootie
Summary: After a close family member dies, Wendy is left alone, and has no one to talk to. Who will help her in this time of need and grieving? The raccoon-themed super villain, the Coon, of course! (Candy Fluff!)


This is a fanfiction I worked very hard on, taking about a couple of weeks, because of my laziness. If you have any criticism for me, tell me! I'm not the most experienced with writing, and I would like to hear what you think! Thank you!

-Admin

—

It was midnight in South Park, and the Coon stood on a rooftop, overlooking the town he grew up and lived in so long. On a cool, dry night like this months ago, he would be walking outside with his ex-girlfriend, Heidi, but she was absent from his life.

It was a couple of months since Cartman broke up with his ex-girlfriend, and right after they did, he tried everything to get her back. He tried giving her chocolates and candy, but she just took them and went off. He tried apologizing to her over and over again (She accepted the apologizes, but she told him she would not date him again). Lastly, he attempted to do something heroic by asking Stan to push Heidi, and he would stage a fight with him (He, instead, told Kyle the plan, who told Heidi about it). There was no use, and one day, he gave up, and decided to dress up as the Coon again. He didn't dress as him for a while because he was too depressed and too invested into getting Heidi back.

Now it was a couple of months after he started to dress as the Coon again, and he always felt so alive when he did. He missed the feeling of doing something for the community, and being a masked 'hero' no one knew (In his mind, even though it was obvious who he was). He loved going out at night and standing on tops of buildings, lurking out to see if trouble was in sight. He also loved to torture people with his sharp claws. The claws were the best part, obviously.

As he overlooked the town, he spotted a person down below, and she sobbed into her lavender-colored coat sleeve. Eventually, after looking at the figure for a while, he recognized the familiar person, because of her pink beret: Wendy Testaburger.

Cartman would never admit it, but he had a blossoming crush on her. He always liked her a little, even when he dated Heidi, but he thought he would never get her; Wendy was always dating some guy, like Stan or Token, for example. Now his crush for her got stronger and stronger by each passing month, and it wasn't stopping anytime soon.

Wendy sobbed because her grandmother, Marie Testaburger, died hours before she left the hospital that night. She left the hospital because she couldn't deal with the pain anymore, the woman and Wendy were close, she was one of her best friends. They used to everything together: bingo, swimming, writing. They even went to feminist marches together.

Weeks before she died, Marie found out she had breast cancer, but 'It was too late,' the doctor said, 'it had already reached her lungs and heart'. Wendy thought she would live, even though it was obviously a million-to-one chance she would; and the death was unexpected to her because she had too much faith that she would live through it anyway.

Wendy thought, at that moment, that she had no one to talk to. Stan and his friends were on a skiing trip (She still talked to Stan, even when they broke up, they were good friends) and Bebe was on a shopping spree, and wasn't responding to her texts; Bebe wasn't the greatest person at answering her phone. Also, her family was grieving over the loss, and she _hated_ to see them cry.

Wendy didn't know it at the time, but someone was following her. Who was the figure? The Coon, of course! He tried to follow her to comfort her, but she walked so _damn_ fast; it was hard for him to catch up. He had to go down a ladder that was four floors long _and_ run, which wasn't his favorite activity, by the way. On top of _that_ , his mask fell off every five seconds because the elastic band on it snapped. His mother had to fix that when he came back home.

The Coon almost caught up, but, by then, she was at her house already. As Wendy entered her house and put her key into the lock, he hid behind a car. As she entered her house, he hid himself beneath one of the front windows so she wouldn't look outside and see him there. After a while of waiting, he saw a light being turned off in her living room from a reflection in the snow, and he sneaked over to the tree that next to her bedroom window.

The tree was quite tall, and it was strong enough for the superhero to climb. However, the tree was slippery, and when he tried to climb onto the first icy branch too quickly, the Coon slipped and fell back to the ground. It was amazing that she didn't hear him, because he loudly muttered curses that no normal 10 year-old should mutter, but the hero was Eric fucking Cartman, for corn's sake; what do you expect?

Anyway, he tried again, being extra careful that time that he didn't step on the wrong branches: the ones that looked unsafe, ones that were too weak, or ones that looked too icy to stand on. Luckily, after ten, long minutes, the hero succeeded at his feat, sitting on the branch that was closest to her window. Wendy sat in bed with her pajamas on, her head on her pillow, facing the other direction of the window. Her beret sat on a table in her room. She stopped crying, but all she thought about was her grandmother, and all the memories she had with her, good or bad. Wendy also reflected the moments that just happened to her in the hospital.

After a few minutes, he loudly tapped on the window.

Wendy turned around and got up out of bed. "Oh fuck!" She jumped, not expecting him to be there. She walked to her window and slammed it open. "What the fuck are you doing here, Cartman?!" She growled.

"It's actually 'The Coon' to you-"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Wendy interrupted, repeating herself. "Are you spying on me? Are you trying to get blackmail on me, huh? What the fuck is your deal? I'm going through a lot of shit right now," She yelled, her voice now sounding like she was about to sob again, "and _I_ don't want fat, annoying idiots like _you_ trying to take the fun _out_ of my life." The girl stopped her rambling to cry, herself shedding a tear. The raven-haired girl sat back on the bed, her head now in her hands. She was now weak, and her energy to attack the other now suddenly diminished, her tears and sobbing coming back to haunt her.

The Coon wouldn't ever admit it, but he was hurt by her words. "Wendy." The super villain replied softly, his fat legs hopped over the windowsill and into her room. The Coon sat with her on the bed; he took his pair of claws off and put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"'What's wrong' is that my grandmother is dead, and I will never see her alive again!" She exploded into more tears, taking the hand aggressively off of her shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Wendy-"

"Like _you_ would care about my grandmother's death!" She lifted her head, not hiding her tears anymore. "You make _fun_ of breast cancer!"

"It doesn't mean that I don't care." Eric scoffed. He was sick and tired of her yelling at him. "Maybe I feel the same way you do. Maybe I miss my biological dad, and wished I never killed him." He never admitted that to anyone before that moment. "Maybe I wonder everyday what he would be like if he stuck around with us and not making evil, ginger children with some other cunt down the road. Maybe I wonder what it would be like if he would support us and my mom would get a decent job for once and not do crack everyday. Maybe I wonder about that."

The feminist's face left a shocked expression and she was speechless for seconds that felt like hours. Was he telling the truth, or did he just say that to shut her up, because it definitely worked. "Why are you even here?"

"Because I saw you were crying, and it's my responsibility to help people; I'm a hero, obviously. Do you want to talk about it?" Who knew Eric Cartman could be caring?

"Okay." She sniffled, not even caring to combat his words. Her tears receded a little. "M-My grandmother died a couple of hours ago, and she died before my eyes. I was the only one in the room, because my parents were getting food from the cafeteria, and they didn't get there on time. Anyway, she said to me, 'Wendy, take care of your father and your family; they are in a tough situation right now, and don't give up on life because I'm leaving this world. Continue on your academics and change the world for the better.' Then she coughed, closed her eyes, and passed."

The Coon thought that her last words were pretty generic, but he didn't want to say anything to ruin the moment. His hand reached over to hold hers, and she did not reject him this time. Her hand lightly squeezed his. "I loved her so much, Coon. She was my best friend."

"Wendy, think about what good things you did together, not the bad. It will make you feel better. Remember her in a positive light, not when she was sick, dying, and laying in a hospital bed."

"You're right. Once," She giggled, knowing that he would hate the story, "we were at a feminist parade in Washington D.C, and it was _so_ neat."

"How did you two dress? Did your grandma come to the event without a shirt or bra with a cardboard sign that said, 'Free The Nipple', or did you two dress up as paper-mache vaginas instead?"

"No, Coon," She giggled, lightly punching his arm, "that only happens at some radical protests, but it could have been done by someone else that I haven't seen; there was a big crowd. Anyway, also we went to an anti-hate peaceful protest in Denver, which protested against the hate crimes of neo-Nazis, fascists, and the alt-right around the country." She directly looked at him, since he was a shining example of one or all of the groups she listed. "Surprisingly, no gangs relating to the alt-right or any sort appeared and attacked us, thankfully."

"I wish I was there to change that." The boy replied, chuckling a little.

"Eri- Coon, you know _that_ is a serious issue in our country today! People are getting threatened _and_ killed because of them!"

"I'm kidding, Hoe, calm down. Just because I hate Jews severely, doesn't mean I'm going to go out and kill some tomorrow. I mean, Kahl is somehow still alive, right?"

She ignored his 'Kahl' comment. "Yes, Eric, but many of them /do/! That's what /they/ believe in: violence against people who don't believe what they believe, or people they discriminate against-"

Eric took off his broken mask, which was broken, and at that exact moment, Eric did something he thought he would never do again: he reached over to kiss Wendy.

Eric didn't know why he did it, exactly. Maybe it was because he loved her? Maybe her wanted her to shut up? Maybe it was both.

The kiss was a surprise to the girl, but she embraced it anyway. The Coon's hands rested on her cheeks, Wendy's cheeks burning from the touch. Her hands rested firmly on the villain's shoulders. Both of them closed their eyes, and after a few seconds, Wendy released her lips from his. She did not know what to think of the kiss, really.

"I was still talking." She stated directly. "Anyway, I'm sorry about before, when I called you a 'fat' and 'annoying idiot'. I was just angry and confused why you came here in the first place. Now I'm happy that you came over and helped me feel much better about everything that just happened in my life, because no one stepped up to the plate yet. But I'm confused about something: you actually like me? Don't get me wrong, I liked the kiss and everything, but why? You ridicule me every day at school!"

"Wendy," The Coon replied calmly, his hands gripping hers lightly, "This is gay, but I've have loved you for a while."

"That isn't considered particularly 'gay'-"

"I loved you ever since the debate a while ago. Remember that? Remember when we kissed, then you said-"

"I said that I didn't like you, and it was just sexual tension. Maybe it was, at the time, but now it seems to be something else. You're a little bit better than when you were younger. I mean, you still treat me like shit, and you are shit, but I kind of like that in a guy." Wendy didn't support domestic abuse at all, but what she meant was that she wanted relief from a guy who acted like such a fag. Stan wasn't a fag, exactly, but he did hippie, faggy things, like saving the whales or baby cows, for example. She wanted a guy that wasn't afraid to do the craziest things. Eric was interesting in her eyes, unlike Stan. She did not condone his beliefs and ways, however, but she had to learn how to simply ignore them.

"Really?" He asked, looking in her baby blue-colored eyes. "Why did you beat me up, then?" He would never admit he was the victim, except to her. If he did, he would seem like a big pussy to everyone.

"Eric, you can be _very_ aggravating. I have to deal with 'boo Wendy Testaburger' every time I have to do a public speaking assignment in class. Plus, it's _very_ hard when I'm class president and I hear rumors about me that aren't even _very_ to being true! I mean, I haven't seen or touched a penis before in real life, and yet rumors circle around that _I'm_ the school 'hoe'!"

"You're still a Hoe, my Hoe." He winked at her, kissing her cheek softly.

Wendy would never admit it, but she blushed a little at his actions. "Look, if you're going to call me 'Hoe', then I'm calling you 'Fatass'."

He pouted, "I'm not fat, I'm big-"

"Boned, yes, I know, but if you're going to call me something I hate to be called, I might as well do it too."

The two sat in silence for a while, the Coon's eyes focused on whatever was in the room; he was never in it before. She squeezed his hand, her head resting on his shoulder.

"So... are we dating now?" The masked villain asked curiously.

"Of course, silly! But remember, it will take a while for everyone to get used to it. My parents and my friends currently don't like you that much, but I will try convince to them that you're good to me."

"I think Stan will hate us together the most. I mean, you broke up with him and maybe he likes you still, at least a little-"

"I don't know about that. He's always hanging out with Kyle instead of talking to girls, like a normal, straight guy should. It's like they're- they're-"

"Dating? I wouldn't be surprised. Stan has basically been up that dirty Jew's ass since they were babies."

The black-haired girl giggled. "They do _everything_ together, even more than regular best friends do. Many times he made the excuse that he needed to 'hang out with Kyle' instead of going on dates with me, which happened a lot." She mocked Stan on the 'hang out with Kyle' part.

"I wouldn't do that that to _you_ , Hoe." He winked, staring her in the eye, afterwords laughing his ass off at the cheesiness of his comment and wink. She joined in also, tears forming in his eyes. They laughed for a couple of seconds, seconds that felt shorter than they should have felt.

"Never do that again."

"Agreed."

They sat in silence again, a question from Wendy breaking the silence: "Can you stay the night? I'm still a bit upset, and I might have nightmares, or I might cry again."

"Alright. I can stay until dawn." He put his mask on the nightstand, getting into bed and wrapping the blankets around his large body. She cuddled up next to him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "You know who I am now; don't tell anyone my identity."

The smaller one giggled. It was obvious who he was from the beginning of the South Park superhero scene. Her hands laid on his wide, chubby chest, herself falling asleep short minutes after she first cuddled up to him. He stroked her long, coal colored-hair lightly until, he too, fell asleep also.

—

At around three in the morning, Wendy's parents came home from doing paperwork all night and her mother went to her room to check on her to see if she was okay. She opened the door and discovered the two sleeping in Wendy's bed. However, the woman was not alarmed. She knew it was hard for her at the moment, and she needed some help from others, and she slept nonsexually in beds with boys before. Plus, she trusted Wendy that she wasn't sleeping around with boys; she was better than that.

The woman also recognized that the boy in her bed was Eric Cartman, but she was too tired to deal with bullshit at the moment; she was very tired and exhausted from the long day she had. However, she found it peculiar that the girl slept in the chubby arms of a boy who she had trouble with in the past. Was it the time to ask questions? Not really.

The woman stared at the sight of the two children for a while when her husband joined her in the entrance of the girl's room. He was about to say something, but she stopped him by slapping her hand on his mouth. It was a sincere, strangely-lovely moment that she did not want to end, much to her husband's dismay.

The redhead whispered to his wife, "Remember our second date?" The other smiled cheerfully and remembered the date like it was yesterday. The two were high school sweethearts, and they were in freshman year when they first started dating. On the date, the man went over the other's house, and they slept together on the living room couch while watching a movie.

"Will they be like us, married and everything?" The woman asked, still whispering.

"Hopefully not." He mumbled, not liking the sight of a fascist, evil, son-of-a-crack-whore child dating his daughter.

"Wendy will be fine. She is smart and she is intelligent when it comes to boyfriends. Stan and Token were nice boys."

"Honey, this is obvious that she's starting her 'bad boy phase'. Teenage and preteen girls _always_ go through silly phases like that. Soon she'll be cutting Jewish people's throats and wearing Nazi armbands with that degenerate!"

"Wendy isn't easily influenced by others, except for that boob implant incident. She'll be fine. Let's go." The woman looked at the adorable scene once more, then closed the door to leave them alone.

—

It was the break of dawn, 6:23 am, to be exact, and the Coon woke up from his sleep. How did he wake up just in time without an alarm clock or anything? He called it his 'Coon instincts', and he wouldn't say otherwise.

The Coon slowly but quickly took his arm out from behind his lover's head, then rose out of bed. Eric didn't want to wake her up, but he needed to speed home because it was a unspoken rule for superheroes in South Park to be out only at night. He grabbed his mask, put on his claws, and was about to open the window when a whine came from the bed. Wendy rose from the mattress, her legs covered with pink blankets and her hair rocking the bedhead look. "You're leaving already?" She groaned.

He mentally kicked himself for waking her up. "I told you I needed to leave so soon. You know that rule too."

"At least come here."

He kneeled on the bed, Wendy's body reaching over to kiss him on the cheek. "I love you, Coon."

Her words shocked him, his shocked face quickly turning into a toothy smile. "I love you too."

The Coon got up from the bed, his face turned to meet hers for the last time in the morning. She smiled at him, watching the supervillain unlatching the window lock and opening it to reveal the cold, Colorado breeze from outside. He opened the window and stood on the branch he stood on hours before, climbing down from it and leaving the Testaburger residence for the first time in hours. He rushed home so he abide the rule.

The girl simply sat in her bed, herself reflecting the fact that her enemy just slept in her bed, the same person who she hated and ass she kicked a while back.

Wendy covered herself in her covers, which was laced with Cartman's scent. He smelled like fried chicken and a touch of cologne, cologne she loved the scent of. It was clearly expensive cologne. Did he steal it? Probably, because his mother would rather spend money for junk food for him instead of personal hygiene products. At least junk food was cheap. Why am I explaining all of this to you? Because I love writing filler, as you can see.

Anyway, right as her head hit the bed, she fell asleep. She slept until her parents came into her room a few hours later, at around ten-thirty. "How was your sleep?" Her father asked, a little, subtle smirk on his face.

Wendy answered her father with a smirk also, "To be honest, in a nonsexual way I was remedied by my biggest rival last night, and I don't regret a thing."

—


End file.
